


Gentlemen Don't Kiss Like That

by Galahard



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: And JB, M/M, Merlin and Roxy are both barely present, This is just a scene rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3463451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/pseuds/Galahard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon prompt for the Hartwin version of Bridget Jones' Diary's final scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm working on another long (for me) AU (3.8k in and I just finished the intro). I wanted to scribble something out for today though, so here is a really brief rewrite of the final scene in Bridget Jones Diary. I tweaked a few lines but they're pretty much the same as in the movie, then I just cut the dramatic diary/running bit because kissing. As always, I'm Galahard on tumblr too!

“Eggsy.”

He turned, not quite believing his eyes as snow swirled between him and Harry.

“What are you doing here?” He couldn’t quite trust his eyes, had to make sure that this wasn’t some elaborate hope or yet another of his dreams as he discreetly pinched his hand. 

“I wanted to see if you were available for smaller missions as well as killing megalomaniacs. Good job with that by the way.”

“I fucking thought that you was dead.” He knew he wasn’t dreaming now, he’d pinched himself and Harry was still here, talking to him in a way that only Harry ever could.

“Well yes, I was, but I realized I’d left something back home and couldn’t let it end that way. That and the paramedics reached me in time and were able to get me medical attention in time.” The older agent gestured to a wound at the edge of his head, the small scar visible even in the meager street light.

“Which was?” He found himself stepping closer, Merlin and Roxy all but forgot in the car behind him.

“Well I realized I’d forgotten to” Harry paused, looking at him steadily “kiss you goodbye. Do you mind?”

He tried to play it cool, shrugging and trying to act like he was thinking about it, trying not to show that how much he still couldn’t believe that Harry was alive. In front of him. Much less wanting to kiss him. “Not really. No.”

Harry leaned forward, about to kiss him, and then he had to go and open his mouth, had to make sure this was really happening. “So you’re really not dead then.”

“No, I’m not.” The corners of his mouth were curling upwards, all the smile that he really expected from the older agent.

He found himself grinning at Harry, unable to let this go without confirming everything at least one last time. “And you’re staying here.”

“So it would seem.” Harry was finally leaning in again, and then there was noise from behind him, causing him to start and look down. Right. Merlin and Roxy. And that would be JB barking in the car as well.

“Friends of yours,” Harry asked teasingly and Eggsy grinned, shaking his head.

“Ain’t never seen them before in my life.” 

They were about to kiss, again, finally, when Roxy’s voice came from the car. “Look, are you coming to fucking Paris or not.”

He turned toward her, wincing a bit and pulling a face. “Not.”

“No fucking room anyway,” Merlin chimed in.

“Maybe we should just go upstairs,” Harry suggesting.

“Fucking good idea,” he agreed, taking a step backwards toward his new apartment.

“Come on lets go,” Roxy told Merlin, then leaned out the car long enough to yell back at him. “We’ll go ahead and take JB, you two have fun.”

Harry had just followed him in the door, it barely closing before he was leaning in from behind, dipping down to press a kiss to his cheek. 

He turned, not willing to just sit back passively, and Harry wrapped his arms around his back. It was slower than he expected, a quick kiss before Harry was pulling back, tilting his head slightly then leaning back in for another. He found his hands moving up to touch Harry’s jaw, slightly surprised that there was a bit of stubble there, then realizing that it meant the older Agent had probably been in such a rush he hadn’t taken the time for it.

Very unlike him.

And it was doing absolutely devastating things in his pants. 

Now that things had started he couldn’t find it in himself to stop, letting one arm loop around behind Harry’s head. There was no time to think, no time to process that Harry was alive. It took all of his focus just to breathe, the rest was Harry. Harry’s lips tugging at his own, Harry’s tongue delving into his mouth, Harry’s body pressed against him.

“Wait a fucking minute,” he said, not really drawing back but parting their lips long enough to talk. “Nice gentlemen don’t kiss like that.”

“Oh yes they fucking do,” Harry said, eyes trained on him until Eggsy stretched up into another kiss.


	2. Bridget Jones Diary 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scene rewrite for the end of Bridget Jones Diary 2! You'll never guess what I watched tonight...

He really hadn’t meant to interrupt Harry’s meeting. It was one of those tricky ones with a bunch of official people from all over, who knew that Harry was important but not quite how. The type of people that if he didn’t face while he was in character he didn’t make a good impression on.

He certainly hadn’t been in character.

Eggsy had in fact just come in out of the rain, water running from his jacket and trailing from his sneakers, something that he hadn’t bothered with because he’d been fighting with Harry, had been for far too long, and he’d had things to say to him. Things to hash out.

Things he’d stumbled over embarrassingly in front of some ambassador and he was pretty sure someone from MI6 as he wound up confessing his love very publicly to the older man and asking him on a date. Really, who could blame him. Finally Harry had saved him, excusing them to the hallway, managing to look exasperated and serious and Eggsy was sick of this. Sick of things not being right between them.

“Eggsy, that was not the most romantic proposition I’ve ever heard.”

“Fuck.” He tried not to wince, looking up into Harry’s eyes. “Well maybe wasn’t half bad because it’s not. It ain’t all the bloody bells and whistles and fucking Cupid prancing about. Don’t mean it can’t fucking mean something.” He searched Harry’s face, worried.

“You’re right,” Harry agreed, and Eggsy smiled, even more relieved when the corners of Harry’s lips twitched up to mirror his own. “In fact, there’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Yeah? Long as it’s not “will you marry me?” He grinned, trying not to be too awkward, trying to pass it off as unimportant or ironic. It wasn’t like they’d split up over the very subject weeks ago.

Then he glanced up and saw the look on Harry’s face, a bit startled and hurt, and the pieces started to slot together. Eggsy’s mouth dropped open, realization dawning on his face. “Oh fuck. It is will you marry me.”

“Well I’m not going to say it now, you’ve spoiled the moment.”

“Is it will you marry me?” His voice was a bit higher than normal, and he was leaning in, trying to force Harry into acknowledging it.

“Eggsy the moment is gone.” Harry looked down, and Eggsy wasn’t having that. Couldn’t. Not when it had come this far.”

“Fuck you no, wait.” He moved back toward the door, ignoring Harry’s small shake of the head and quiet no and yelled over his shoulder. “Start again!” He put his hand on the door, shouting one more time as Harry hadn’t acknowledged him. “Start again!”

Harry was shaking his head. “No, no I’m not going to just-” Harry took a step back, licking his lips, and for once Eggsy ignored that movement.

He shut the door behind him. “I’ve just stepped into the fucking hall and say “I’ve got a question to ask you” and I don’t say nothing.” He stood there, waiting, making a small go on gesture when Harry didn’t immediately comply. 

Harry sighed at him, and Eggsy could feel the faint hope he’d had start to drift away. Voice quiet he murmured “and then,” he raised his eyebrows at Harry expectantly, “you say the fucking question.” Harry stared at him, and he was starting to think he’d misread everything. 

“Eggsy Unwin. Will you marry me?”

He found himself grinning, Harry’s face breaking into an actual smile, no simple twitch of his lips, and Eggsy ran across the hall, flinging himself at Harry and not caring at all that he was probably going to soak Harry’s suit with rain water. Harry could deal with that later. For now he was going to get what he came for, which was primarily a kiss. He leaned up into it, grinning the entire time.

Finally they broke apart, and now he just had one last thing to do. Convince Harry to leave a meeting with ambassadors and agents and shit to have sex in the nearest available room. Or closet. He really wasn’t picky. It’d been fucking weeks and it was his fiancé’s duty to make him happy or some shit.


End file.
